


Our Get Along Shirt

by coffeeandconspiracies



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-07
Updated: 2015-12-07
Packaged: 2018-05-05 09:55:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5370977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeeandconspiracies/pseuds/coffeeandconspiracies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>{rompt: mabel locks the stan twins together like she did with dipper and wendy</p>
            </blockquote>





	Our Get Along Shirt

“Mabel, this isn’t funny.”

Silence.

“ _Mabel sweetie, let your Grunkle Stan out before he gets very angry.”_

Still nothing.

“Mabel Pines, if you don’t open this door  _right now–_ what? What’s so funny?” Stan’s attention was drawn away from shouting at the door and turned instead to his chuckling brother.

Ford shrugged. “Listen to yourself. You sound like  _mom_.”

“Yeah, the only difference is  _we listened to her!”_ he shouted the last part, hoping his great niece would hear on the other side.

“Did we?” Ford asked, jokingly.

Stan cracked a smile. “Okay, fair.”

“Why’d she lock us in here anyway?”

“I’duno, she wants us to talk about our problems and hug, or cry, or both or something.”

Ford grimaced. “Yeesh." Then, louder. "Mabel, please let us out?”

Mabel was waiting outside, kneeling in front of the closet door. Dipper was next to her, watching curiously, but she doubted he would make his presence known.  “NO ONE’S GETTING OUT OF THERE UNTIL 40 YEARS OF REPRESSED FEELINGS HAVE BEEN ADEQUATELY DISCUSSED AND WORKED THROUGH.” 

Stan looked at his brother solemnly. “We’re gonna die in this closet, Stanford.”

“I’ll be honest with you, after everything I’ve lived through, this isn’t such a bad way to go out.”

Was Ford trying to make a joke?

“Yeah, when are you gonna tell me about all of that, huh?” Stan asked, missing the humor. 

“All of what?”

“Everything you got up to stuck in that portal for  _three decades”_

On the other side of the door, Mabel leaned forward optimistically.

Inside, Ford sighed and turned his head away. “I’m not.”

Mabel fell back with a disappointed eye roll.

“You’re not. I spent more than half my life trying to get you out of that thing, and you’re not even going to tell me what you were  _doing_ inside?!”

“I spent more than half of _my_ life stuck in there _because_ of you!”

“It was an accident! What do you want, a cookie?”

“An apology would be nice, for starters!”

“Oh, you’re right, I’m so sorry I  _saved your life!”_

 _“_ No one asked you to! I gave you one simple instruction:  _hide my research._ It’s dangerous, Stan! Do you have any idea what that information could turn into in the wrong hands?!”

“Excuse me for caring more about my brother than some stupid journals!”

“This is good, right?” Dipper asked quietly, as their great uncles' shouting continued in the background. 

Mabel shrugged. “I guess so. At least they’re talking.”

“Yeah.”

She shook her head. “They aren’t saying anything they haven’t said before! They just keep going in circles, getting close to touching the emotional stuff but always backing away. They  _both_ do it, it’s awful. Don’t they understand if they just talked about their feelings they would be okay?”

Dipper thought about that for a moment. “Mabel … did you ever consider that, maybe, things wouldn’t be? Maybe their relationship is too far gone?”

“Don’t say things like that!”

“They’ve spent more than half of their lives apart from one another - they’re twins but they’re practically strangers. Forcing them to talk about feelings they don’t know they have …”

“What?”

“Well, it might just make things worse.”

Mabel bit her lip. Dipper was wrong, he had to be. Things  _would_ be okay between Ford and Stan. They’re brothers, they love each other. They  _wanted_ to fix things. They just didn’t know it yet.

“CHRIST STANFORD DID YOU EVEN WANT TO BE SAVED?!” Stan shouted, pulling the younger twins back into their argument. Dipper and Mabel exchanged an  _uh-oh_ look. 

For a whole 30 seconds, there was silence. Then: “of course I did.”

“Well then what are you so angry about?” Stan asked. 

“What I want and what’s best for the world aren’t the same thing, Stanley. I don’t matter.”

“You mattered to me! Why can’t you  _appreciate_ that?!”

“So, what? Is that why you saved me? To give yourself a pat on the back? To ‘make up’ for everything else you’d done?”

Stan’s hands flew into the air, and he made a few frustrated noises that didn’t exactly form full words. He sat down with his knees pulled up to his chest - that was all the tiny closet would allow. At least the light in there still worked - he hadn't changed the bulb in at least 10 years. 

Ford continued to stand defiantly, until eventually his legs got tired, too, and he sat criss-crossed with his back to his brother. Neither of them said anything. Ford disappeared into deep thought, Stan into boiling rage. Mabel was  _so_ grounded when they got out …

Hours passed. Dipper brought Mabel lunch, and then dinner, and then coffee. When the clock read five minutes to ten, he stood up. “Don’t you think this has gone on long enough?”

Mabel shook her head, her eyes beginning to droop. Through a yawn she told him, “I’m not letting them out until they talk.”

Dipper sat back down, reluctant to leave her down there alone all night. The clock kept ticking.

Ticking.

Mabel sat up straight.

Ticking.

Clenched her teeth.

_Ticking._

And at 2am, Mabel snapped.

“I CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE!” she exploded, jumping to her feet. She unlocked the closet door and swung it open violently.

Stan and Ford stared at her, shocked. They’d been expecting to be stuck in there  _at_ least until morning.

“Is that coffee?” Stan asked, looking at the mug in her hand. “Since when are you old enough to drink–”

“YOU WIN! I GET IT NOW, YOU’LL NEVER BE BROTHERS AGAIN BECAUSE YOU’RE BOTH TOO OLD AND TOO STUBBORN TO CARE ABOUT OTHER PEOPLE’S FEELINGS!” Tears began running quickly down her face, like she’d been holding them in for awhile. “WELL I’M NOT! AND I DID THIS BECAUSE I CARE ABOUT  _YOUR_ FEELINGS AND I WANTED THE TWO OF YOU TO - TO - OH NEVER MIND!” 

She ran off and up the stairs to the attic, slamming the door behind her.

Dipper stood there in her wake, taking in the two men (now standing) before him. They stared back, unsure of what to say.

“You know,” Dipper said, finally. “She’s afraid that we’ll end up like you two.”

And with that, he went to bed.

Stan and Ford looked at each other, heat rising in their cheeks.

“Maybe they’re–”

“Yeah. Should we–”

“Sure. I promise, no more yelling.” 

Ford laughed. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

Stan smacked the back of his head, lightly. “Don’t tempt me to break them.”

Ford flashed a grin, then set his face in a serious expression. “Well, if we’re really going to do this, there are some things you should know first. I’ve done things I’m not proud of.”

Stan snorted. “Likewise.” He looked around, suddenly very aware that there were children in the house. “Maybe we should take this downstairs.”

“Good idea.” Ford nodded quickly, and together they shuffled off for the basement.


End file.
